


{ Ｔｅｌｅｋｏｎ }

by thefriendyouleftinthehallway



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Dissociation, Gen, Hallucinations, M/M, Musical References, Pining, data's emotions personified
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24417319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefriendyouleftinthehallway/pseuds/thefriendyouleftinthehallway
Summary: Second Officer’s Personal Log, Stardate █████. Following the unexpected power surge into my positronic net,GeordiCommander La Forge has cross-referenced my self-diagnostic and confirmed that there are no noticeable discrepancies in my functioning. Despite this, however, I find myself to be quite taken with an unusual state of being in which my secondary processing is being directed towards the concept that something is not as it would appear to be -- that there is something wrong. Despite ‘knowing better,’ I cannot help but describe this state as one of foreboding.---In which Lore is not a physical android, but a piece of programming -- a fragmented emotional side to Data that split from his actual awareness as the two could not exist as one without risk of cascade failure. Data is completely unaware of Lore’s presence in his programming until a power surge causes him to begin manifesting as an audiovisual tactile hallucination.
Relationships: Data & Lore (Star Trek), Data/Geordi La Forge
Comments: 17
Kudos: 55





	1. Sleep By Windows

**Author's Note:**

> (Don't even ask me why the crystalline entity attacked Omicron Theta if Lore wasn't responsible -- maybe it came on its own.) There's no real specific time setting for this one (as you can see I've blocked out the stardates), but it's after Data gains the ability to dream. Naturally some things will be different as he's never met Lore in this universe because Lore isn't real. So… I couldn't really pin down an actual time period. Feel free to just imagine.

❝ 𝒟𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 _?_ ❞

\---

_Second Officer’s Personal Log, Stardate_ _█████_ _. Following the unexpected power surge into my positronic net,_ ~~_Geordi_ ~~_Commander La Forge has cross-referenced my self-diagnostic and confirmed that there are no noticeable discrepancies in my functioning. Despite this, however, I find myself to be quite taken with an unusual state of being in which my secondary processing is being directed towards the concept that something is not as it would appear to be -- that there is something wrong. Despite ‘knowing better,’ I cannot help but describe this state as one of foreboding._

Data blinked at his own yellow eyes as they stared back at him from the mirror. He had never before felt the need to do so, yet now, there was an odd curiosity about his own design blooming in the back of his mind. Perhaps the curiosity stemmed from the power surge. Certainly previously unused files, elements of his positronic brain that hadn’t seen activity since they were first constructed may have been touched by the event. And he supposed that they served as a reminder of his origins and his father, in a way. 

Though it was a wonder to him why his father had made him so inhuman. Skin with such realistic texture, he mused as he touched a finger to his cheek, yet a strikingly alien colour and tone. Why? Eyes with delicately strung irises, separate fibres visible beneath the artificial cornea, contracting and expanding in response to light stimuli. And yet he had made them yellow. Why?

To go to the effort of giving him breath, a pulse, body temperature, realism. And then to make him so that at a single glance it was clear he was no real human. To what purpose, Data was forced to wonder. And despite all the many possibilities, he still didn’t have a preferred theory. 

All this was still odd. The strange sense which reason forced Data to categorise as ‘foreboding’ persisted as Data continued to stare blankly into his own face in the mirror. Something almost like a need, perhaps, or a want, was compelling him to keep looking. As if it hid a mystery he needed to solve, but he hadn’t figured out what it was yet. 

Without warning, at an alarmingly rapid pace his processing speed began to slow, and he found for a moment he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mirror, even when every protocol in his net told him he should. He couldn’t turn his gaze away from his own eyes even when there came a flicker of pale movement behind him without logical cause, or the sensation of a touch on his shoulder despite the lack of company in the room played over the sensory readings of his skin. 

And then his processing speed blipped back to normal and he was free to act on his subroutines and move about without difficulty. It was as if nothing had ever happened, and yet something _had_. His first course of action, naturally, was to check the room quite thoroughly for the signs of any presence (other than Spot or himself), but he found none. The natural progression, of course, was then to check for signs of forced entry to the room. Once again there was nothing. 

He was forced to conclude the error had been one of his own. A fault, a malfunction. Brief, possibly part of a lingering effect of the power surge. So he left his room, and strode down the corridors, plagued by the most bizarre _feeling_ . For Data, feelings were minimal, and they were rare. But alongside this sense that something bad was approaching, as he walked down the carpeted halls (lit dimmer for the shift most of the main crew took off to sleep) he was followed by the feeling that something, that _someone_ , was watching him. Following him, invisible, out of sight. 

Multiple times he stopped when he convinced himself that inamongst his own footsteps were those of a foreign party. And yet upon actually halting, there was nothing but silence. Yes, a common auditory illusion. Yet Data was not human, and technically… he shouldn’t be subject to the tricks human minds play on themselves. 

As he approached the door which had been his destination, he lifted his hand to press a button on the panel, trying his best to disregard the bizarre flicker he saw in the reflective surface, the false sensory readings of fluctuations in the air as if a person had just passed by. He pressed the screen, and the door chimed in return. It was several moments before the door swooshed open and Data strode into the room to the sight of Geordi, dishevelled from sleep. 

“Data. What are you _doing_ here?” Geordi asked. 

“Geordi, I have recently experienced multiple cases of false sensory input, and you are the most qualified crewmember to perform an external diagnostic,” Data said. 

As Data waited outside for Geordi to change into his uniform, he thought he heard a voice. Familiar yet foreign, a whisper in his ear, yet the words were indistinguishable. Nobody had been close enough to whisper that quietly, yet he’d heard it as if they were pressed to his ear.

The door opened and Geordi joined him, and now he wasn’t so worried about the ghost footsteps, or the touches that weren’t there, or flickers in the corners of his vision. 

They walked down the corridor together, side by side. Although they weren’t touching, Data imagined them arm-in-arm on the streets of Victorian London, for a moment. 

It seemed as though he blinked to find that they’d arrived in engineering, despite the fact they’d walked all the way and he remembered every second of it. 

Data wished for answers. He wished for answers as Geordi’s careful hands pulled panels off of him, examined his circuitry. 

“I’m sorry, Data,” Geordi said. “But I really can’t find anything wrong. Maybe it was just a lingering symptom.”

Data blinked a couple of times, a beat passed. “Yes, Geordi, you are most likely correct. I apologise for having woken you.” Then he stood, and Geordi followed him as he walked. 

He walked Geordi back to his quarters, bid goodbye, and retired to his own. As he lay on the bed, about to initiate his dream program, something touched his arm slightly. Expecting Spot, he brushed it away, but the thin air he felt his hand pass through proved it to be another phantom sensation. 

Until, that was, he opened his eyes, and came face-to-face with his own.


	2. Remind Me To Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm literally so sorry; I had this ready by Thursday but forgot to post it!! In my defence I have an artwork, an interactive diary-form short story, and basically three essays due within the next two weeks and was distracted, but I said I'd update and didn't!! I'll do better.
> 
> Also this chapter is a little short and low-key filler but… enjoy?

❝ 𝒲𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑒 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽 ❞

\---

_ Second Officer’s Personal Log, Stardate  _ _ █████ _ _. Although I continue to run self-diagnostics, I have as of yet been unable to locate the error responsible for the sensory malfunctions I am continuing to experience. The apparition, which has become fully-formed and lost the previous detached sporadic quality, calls itself ‘Lore’, and claims to originate in my subconsciousness. As I have no evidence to the contrary, the theory seems sound. How or why Lore exists still remains an unknown factor. His presence is only occasional, and though it may be unwise, I have refrained from informing anyone of the severity of the sensory malfunction.  _

Data, as an android, could divide his attention quite easily. And yet he found difficulty ignoring Lore; the hallucination seemed to demand his focus. The ship shook as it collided sharply with an asteroid belt hidden from visual and sensors by a small anomaly in space. Lore appeared next to Data in an instant, a sharp inhale of fear as he grabbed Data’s arm with a strong grip. 

“You’ve already done the calculations as to the likelihood of our fatality, haven’t you, brother?” the hallucination asked as Data continued to ignore it, focused on carrying out the countermeasures ordered by the Captain. 

Lore gripped Data tighter. “Less than 3% for a minor incident such as this,” Data said, as quietly as he could manage. 

“What’s that, Mr Data?” Riker asked. 

“Nothing, Commander,” Data answered, and Lore vanished again. 

Data didn’t see Lore again that day until after his shift, when he sat at a table in Ten Forward with Geordi by his side. As Geordi delivered the punchline of his joke Lore appeared from nowhere and slapped his hand down on Data’s shoulder, laughing before settling into the spare chair. Data copied the audio of Lore’s laughter and Geordi grinned in response. 

“That funny, huh?” Geordi asked, something  _ other  _ in his tone, but Data couldn’t identify what it was. 

“I have been practicing laughter,” Data said. It was not a lie, but it wasn’t the real reason he was able to produce such an adequate laugh, either. 

A half-truth, and his eyes slid curiously across to the Lore apparition in the spare seat, watching as the lookalike shifted and smiled gently at Geordi. Data inhaled audibly as a sudden flutter struck his chest. 

“Data,” Geordi said. “Are you okay?”

“I am functioning within established parameters,” Data answered, almost out of habit. “What has prompted your inquiry?”

Geordi frowned, if only very slightly. “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “You seem distracted, Data.”

Data twitched minutely as Lore huffed a quiet laugh. “Oh dear, Data,” the hallucination said. Data knew Geordi couldn’t feel it as the apparition brushed its fingers against the engineer’s. 

“Geordi, I…” Data tried, but he couldn’t find the words. 

“Shh,” Lore said. “What do you want to tell him?”

“…Data?” Geordi asked. 

“I… do not know,” Data said. “I am sorry, Geordi. I do not know.”

\--

“It’s almost sad,” Lore said. “How much you  _ want  _ to feel for him. How much you already do.” 

Data didn’t respond. He continued painting, the Geordi on the canvas smiling up at him. 

Without warning, Lore slammed his hands into the wall. “Doesn’t it anger you?” he asked. 

“To what are you referring?” Data asked passively. 

“That you can’t. You can’t love him.”

Data stilled, placing the brush back on the palette. For some reason none of this felt right. There was something wrong, but he didn’t know what it was. 

Lore was shaking. With anger, tears, it wasn’t clear. Data only watched him. Looked at his face, at his posture, and imitated. They were like mirror images, standing across the room. 


	3. The Joy Circuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little dream-sequence gore.

❝ 𝑅𝑒𝓌𝒾𝓃𝒹, 𝒸𝓇𝓎 ❞

\---

_Red lights flashed from the walls and the ship shook with each phaser impact against the shields, soon to be the hull. Though the action was smooth and android, Data skidded to a halt as he got through the doors to the main transporter._

_“You are relieved, Ensign,” he said, and took immediately to the control panel, fingers flying over the screen at inhuman speed, irises flickering back and forth so fast it were as if they were shivering._

_“Status, Mr Data?” Riker’s voice scratched through the comm._

_The android slapped the badge on his breast as he continued to program adaptive functions into the transporter._

_“I am still unable to get a stable lock, sir,” Data said._

_“Get him out or don’t, but we have to make a retreat as soon as possible,” Riker responded._

_As Data continued, he felt the resonant hum of the Enterprise change for a split second, and his hands shifted in one fluid motion from pressing on keys to sliding across the screen as Geordi’s transporter pattern shimmered to life._

_In that instant, the warp drive kicked in, and the ship was thrown far out of range._

_Data held the pattern with a steady gaze as it snapped solid, and Geordi fell to the floor with a cry. Instantly Data was at his side._

_“Emergency medical assistance to Transporter Room Three,” he snapped into the comm._

_The partial lock hadn’t been sufficient, it seemed, for there seemed to be a large laceration in Geordi’s middle, and Data pressed his hands to it as Geordi writhed in pain, as if trying to keep the blood from escaping. It seeped through the torn material and changed the yellow of Geordi’s shirt to red, the ooze slickly pulsing through Data’s fingers no matter his efforts to prevent it._

_The laceration was worse than any human injury Data had ever previously borne witness to; it was massive, and it was difficult to comprehend how much of Geordi’s tissue was missing. Escalopes of flesh were hanging loose and the layers of skin and fatty tissue and muscle were all completely obscured by the quick, syrup flow of hot blood, thicker than Data had imagined and unique in the way it stuck to his hands._

_The door swooshed open and the medical team swooped in, but Geordi fell still under Data’s twitching hands. Though Data couldn’t see his eyes behind the VISOR, every inch of Geordi’s body seemed to exude the sense of some spark of life having left him._

_Data froze, nearly all his processing snapping to a halt. Geordi was going to die, but not now. He had more time left, and Data-- half of Data’s positronic pathways were about him. What--_

_The medical team flocked around them and began to scan Geordi. Data stood up and stepped backwards, unblinkingly staring at Geordi, but not quite focused. He couldn’t quite hear. The doctors scanned Geordi, shook their heads, loaded him onto an anti-grav gurney._

_The room emptied as Data stood still, as if stuck in time, the air passed him by. He was processing the queue, but each time it reached the Geordi’s event, it glitched, froze, and restarted. He couldn’t process that._

Lore was pressed into the corner hyperventilating when Data woke up. The android stared at him curiously. Of course Data didn’t want Geordi to die. He was… humbled, by the dream. But it was over now, and yet Lore still shook.

“Lore, the dream has concluded,” Data announced.

“Would you mourn?” Lore asked suddenly, yellow tears dripping down his face. “If Geordi died, would you mourn?”

“I believe it would take time to adjust to the lack of Geordi’s stimuli. It would likely be disconcerting to experience the lack of his presence when my neural pathways have become accustomed to him. In a way, parts of my net have grown into the shape suited to accommodate Geordi’s frequent stimuli.”

“But you wouldn’t feel this,” Lore said.

“No. I do not experience emotions as humans do,” Data said.

“But I do,” said Lore. “And I’m in your head.”

Data blinked. “That should be impossible,” he said. “I had assumed your behaviour to be mimicry.”

“No, Data. I can feel.” The hallucination slammed his fist into his own chest. “And you can, too. Because I’m a part of you.”

In an instant, Lore reached out and grabbed a hold of Data, hand tight around the android’s wrist. The input was overwhelming, and Data found for perhaps the first time since activation, that he had to close his eyes from the force of it.

If it were logically explainable or possible in any way, he would have called the first feeling that hit him nausea. Then, a sharp, sharp jerk in his chest that was almost crippling. He let out a very human gasp. His head swam with what he might have called dizziness. His eyes filled with what he might have called tears.

But in an instant the sensations were gone, and Lore was nowhere to be seen. Data cleaned the leaked yellow mixture of microhydraulic lubricant and coolant off his cheeks. Though as he did so, he felt an absence in his breast where he felt there should have been a presence.


	4. Remember I Was Vapour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamnit, I almost forgot to get this one posted today! I have literally so much schoolwork to do, holy shit.

❝ 𝑅𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇, 𝐼 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ❞

\---

_ Second Officer’s Personal Log, Stardate █████. The risk the apparition known as ‘Lore’ poses to my programming is becoming high beyond my previous predictions. It is for this reason that I have decided to reveal the ‘secret’ to Geordi La Forge. As the member of the crew with the most experience with my programming and hardware, I believe him the most qualified to attempt to expel Lore from my system.  _

“Geordi, I have to speak to you,” Data said. 

“Data. I was just about to go to bed.”

“I believe this to be of some importance, and though it may not be immediately time-critical, the swiftness with which I communicate the issue will affect the swiftness with which it can be resolved, and it is important to me that it can be resolved as soon as possible.” 

Geordi furrowed his brows. “What’s going on?” he asked. 

“For several weeks I have been afflicted by an apparition or hallucination with a similar appearance to my own. He calls himself Lore, and claims to experience human emot--” 

“Several  _ weeks _ ?” Geordi interrupted. “Data, why didn’t you  _ tell  _ me?” 

“I did not find it necessary. He was a part of my programming, but seemed entirely banal and I had no way of telling if he was, in fact, an error, or simply an extension of my programming activated by the surge; much like my ability to dream as humans do,” Data explained. 

“Data, you should have told me,” Geordi urged. “Changes in your program, especially ones that could affect your functioning--”

Data, interestingly, held up a hand. Geordi stopped talking. 

“I am aware,” Data said. “I believe my judgement was impared. I have come to you know because it has been brought to my attention the extent to which Lore is able to affect my functioning and behaviour.”

Geordi breathed. “How does he affect your behaviour, Data?” he asked. 

“I am not entirely sure,” Data blinked. “Often when he makes contact with me, I experience certain sensations, sometimes mimicking what could be described as states of emotion.”

Geordi frowned. 

“Geordi,” Data said. “You are expressing multiple attitudes simultaneously. I am unable to gauge your reaction. Please describe it verbally.” 

“Well, on one hand it’s incredible, Data,” Geordi said. “On the other… I don’t know what the feel about you seeing something that’s not there. It doesn’t seem right.” 

Data nodded briefly. “I too find myself caught between the two associations. But I have determined that the possible risk is more significant than the possible benefit. I would like you to remove Lore from my programming.”

Geordi frowned again. “I don’t know, Data. By the sounds of things he was something latent in your program. I don’t know how deeply he’s ingrained in your functioning. Removing him could be dangerous.” 

Lore flickered in the corner of Data’s vision, and the android felt cold, hands around his throat. 

“You must remove him!” Data insisted. “You must remove him, you must remove him, you must…” his ventilation system was working in overdrive, and there was something in his tone that mimicked what might have been fear. 

  
Figuratively, his sensory input was screaming at him. It was jarring, intense,  _ sharp _ . Only as Geordi’s arms encircled him did he find relief -- but by then he was already offline.


	5. I Dream Of Wires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's very short but I didn't really know how to drag it out for much longer. It's the second-last one anyway,

❝ 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝓈𝒾𝓁𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒; 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝑒𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 ❞

\---

_ Chief Engineer’s Personal Log, Stardate █████. I don’t know how to fix it. I just don’t know what’s wrong with Data. Theoretically, he should be functioning, and yet he simply isn’t. The more I work on him, the more I wonder if… I don’t know. With all our med tech we can fix a body, you know? So they’re all healed and fixed and everything… but if they’re dead too long, you just can’t bring them back. Even if their body’s perfectly fixed. Everyone sort of accepts that humans have this… spark of life. And when it leaves you can’t put it back. But Data’s not human, he’s not like us. I have to keep trying. But, I just wonder if… maybe Data’s spark is gone, you know? Maybe I  _ can’t  _ bring him back.  _

In almost every spare moment, Geordi was in the lab. There, he kept Data, puzzling over his positronic net, over the wires and the programming, and wondering  _ why _ . Why Data just wouldn’t wake up. 

In a way, Data enjoyed the company. Though he couldn’t move or speak, he could hear Geordi talking to him, see Geordi looking down at him with pain and fear and sadness. It helped to ground him, because every moment Geordi was gone, all that Data could see and hear was Lore. 

In another way, Data didn’t want Geordi to spend so much time in the lab. He knew it must have been distressing for Geordi, to the point that it may begin to impair the human’s functions. Data didn’t want that. He wished Geordi to be in good health, always, as any friend would -- though he was not any friend. He was an android, and he  could not feel . 

“There’s only one way,” Lore told him. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

‘I estimate the risk of cascade failure to be above 75.2% if we were to combine our programming,’ Data said -- he imagined saying it, and Lore heard. 

“Live a little,” Lore whispered. 

‘You claim to experience human emotion, yet you lack fear,’ Data replied. 

“Your whole program’s unstable, Data,” Lore said. “I’m coming apart. If we combine, it’ll save us both.” 

‘Your behaviour is erratic and unpredictable. If you and I were to merge our programs, it is likely I would take on your negative characteristics, which would affect my performance as a functioning member of the crew.’ 

“And how are you performing right now, do you think? As a statue?” Lore asked. 

‘Geordi will--’

“No,” Lore said. “Geordi can’t fix you. You can remain like this for all eternity, or you can merge with me -- and either live or die.” 

‘I-- I--’ Data’s processing speed had been affected. 

Lore grabbed Data’s hand, his fingers lacing with the android’s, and though it was a hallucination, for a brief moment it could have been real. He could have had a brother. And everything started melting. 

Data opened his eyes. 


	6. Telekon (Epilogue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, I'm so sorry this chapter is so short! The content in it was what I'd always planned for the last chapter, but I didn't really know how to flesh it out beyond this.

❝ 𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔  _ ‘𝐼 _ 𝒶𝓂 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁 _ ’  _ ❞

\---

When he kissed Geordi, his chest fluttered. His face felt warm and he smiled at the sensation. Everything was  _ right  _ somehow, as it was meant to be. Lore… he hadn’t been back in a very long time. 

It wasn’t all the time that he felt things in such a human way. It came and went, like the tide ebbing and flowing. In a way, that was hard. He wanted to love people, all the time. In a way, he was just grateful to be able to at all. 

And the longer he lived like this, the more he realised maybe he always had. Not in this same way. Not in this human way. But he’d always loved them. Always loved Geordi. 

It was really something. To feel that human-like comfort and peace, with Spot sleeping in his arms, purring softly in the evening. Or to have Geordi lying next to him, feel the warmth of his body heat and that adoration. 

Nothing quite as lovely as this. The mateship of the crew. The tickle of humour. The thrill of being on the bridge in the middle of a red-alert crisis. Up, down, everything. 

It was important, delicate, so special every moment he felt. 

When he didn’t it was okay. Because he knew he’d get those feelings back. And then he could touch Geordi again, and feel love. 


End file.
